


Things Shared Among Friends

by Morgan (duckwhatduck)



Category: Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Canon Era, Cunnilingus, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sharing a Bed, Threesome - F/M/M, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-14 23:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/842603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckwhatduck/pseuds/Morgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A pleasant evening for a certain ménage à trois, in the course of which much fun is had by all concerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things Shared Among Friends

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for this prompt from Making Hugo Spin: _Something in which Joly watches Bossuet and Musichetta have sex, and he doesn't actively participate in the intercourse. Instead he plays with Musichetta's breasts, adds a finger when Bossuet's fucking her, kisses the two of them, talks to them, and so on._
> 
> Title vaguely derived from the source of the whole threesome thing: "Tout leur était commun, même un peu Musichetta".

Musichetta is Joly's mistress.

Bossuet is Joly's best friend.

The vast majority of people would therefore consider it a grave betrayal on both sides, that Bossuet is sitting at Joly's kitchen table, with Musichetta straddling his lap and his tongue in her mouth, and a far from pleasant thing for Joly to walk in on. To Joly's mind, however, it is nothing of the sort - he was surprised himself, at first, how natural an idea it seemed, but he is more than used to it now, and it seems more than natural.

These are the two people he loves most in the world, and what is more natural than that they should love each other too, and that he should love them together as he loves them separately? That they make love, the two of them, all three of them, and that it is beautiful to watch and to take part in?

He closes the door behind him, and stands for a while watching.

Musichetta is clutching at Bossuet's shoulders, moaning softly into his mouth, and Bossuet's hand against her back twists a stray curl around his finger. His other hand is stroking her thigh, lost in the folds of her skirt.

Musichetta has beautiful hair.

Joly walks around behind Musichetta, and begins to unpin the rest of her hair. He works by touch, and slowly, and as the silky dark strands slide over his fingers, he pulls out her hairpins and drops each one on the table without looking. He is looking over Musichetta's shoulder, his eyes fixed on Bossuet's face.

Bossuet's eyes are closed, and his cheeks are flushed, and his attention is altogether fixed on Musichetta. Joly is not sure Bossuet has even noticed him come in.

Musichetta's hair falls loose down her back, and Joly sinks his hands into it, combs his fingers through it. As his fingers move over her scalp she gives a soft groan of pleasure, and leans her head back into his hands, butting against them like a cat begging to be scratched. Joly obliges willingly. Bossuet makes a small noise of displeasure as he is deprived of Musichetta's mouth, and opens his eyes, blinking reproachfully up at Joly.

His lips are parted slightly, wet and red, his cheeks are pink and his eyes are wide, and Joly thinks, abruptly, that he would very much like to kiss him. And so he does, leaning forward past Musichetta's shoulder, pressing her body between theirs in the process. They kiss quick and sloppy and hard, and Joly nips lightly at Bossuet's lower lip before he pulls back again to speak.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, Lesgles. I'm sorry if it makes you jealous, but I'd run my hands through your hair as well if you had any." In demonstration, he disentangles his hand from Musichetta's curls to pet Bossuet's bald head.

Bossuet lets go of Musichetta to grab for Joly's wrist, and jerks him sharply forward. Joly stumbles against Musichetta's back, and Bossuet, grinning, seizes his opportunity to catch him by the shoulder and ruffle his hair.

Joly yelps and tries to pull away; Bossuet, following, half-stands; Musichetta squeals as she slips off his lap and against Joly's legs, and all three of them end up in a tangled, laughing pile on the floor.

"Men!" Musichetta exclaims, through a fit of giggles and a mouthful of Bossuet's shirt. "No dignity, any of you!"

"Dignity," says Joly with as much gravitas as he can muster while lying on the floor with two people on top of him, "is altogether overrated."

Having landed mostly on top, Bossuet is able to push himself up on his hands and knees. "She doesn't look convinced," he tells Joly, looking down into Musichetta's pouting face. "We might have to demonstrate the benefits of abandoning decorum, if we are to redeem the good name of our sex."

Musichetta raises an eyebrow in challenge, and flashes Bossuet a coquettish smile. "Convince me, then."

"As you wish," says Bossuet, sitting back on his heels and looking her up and down contemplatively. "Joly, that doesn't look at all comfortable..."

Joly wriggles out from underneath Musichetta, but stays sitting on the floor, and when Musichetta moves as if to get up, he tugs her back against him, so she is sitting between his legs. Bossuet nods. "Mmm, much better." 

He slips one hand beneath Musichetta's skirt, and she sighs appreciatively as his hand begins to caress her thigh. Joly cups her breasts through the fabric of her dress, and her breath hitches as his thumb circles her nipple. She leans back into Joly's chest, her head falling back against his shoulder as she looks up at him. "I might - ah - be willing to consider rethinking, in the face of such...mmm, eloquent argument," she breathes.

"Oh, you're giving in far too easily," Joly says, against the side of her neck. She tilts her head to the side to make room for him, and he kisses up the line of her throat. "Our Bossuet there is _most_ skilled with his tongue, and you've hardly given him a chance to begin."

"Flattery, Joly?" says Bossuet, laughing. He crawls closer, kneeling between Musichetta's legs, and from her gasps Joly can guess where his hand is moving as he speaks. "Are you angling for a taste of it yourself?" He sticks out the tongue in question, waggling it at his friend.

"Would I, when it's Musichetta in need of it?" Joly replies coolly, but Bossuet, refusing to be rebuffed, leans in and kisses him breathless - with, as promised, ample and skilful use of his tongue. His fingers, meanwhile, are still working beneath Musichetta's skirt, which has slid up to expose flashes of her pale thigh. She presses back against Joly's chest, warm and writhing under Bossuet's touch, her breath coming in fast, hungry pants. Joly clutches her against his chest, and his hands tighten slightly on her breasts, almost without his thinking about it, kneading more than stroking. Musichetta's head rolls on his shoulder, and when she moans in pleasure her breath is hot against his neck.

Joly is breathing hard too, when Bossuet pulls away, and his heart is pounding. 

" _Now_ , Musichetta's turn."

"Oh, good," sighs Musichetta. She lifts her head, as if expecting a kiss, but Bossuet has other ideas in mind, and as he burrows under her skirt her eyes widen and her hands fly out to clutch at Joly's thighs, fingers digging in sharply as she clings to him. "Oh, _good_!"

Musichetta pants, her chest heaving, her eyes fluttering shut. She whimpers softly, turning her head to burrow against Joly, and Joly brings up a hand to tangle in her hair, cradling her head against him. Her hair tickles his face, her is body warm against his, her hands clutching convulsively at his legs. She whimpers and writhes between his legs, whimpering and bucking her hips against Bossuet's mouth -

\- Bossuet, hidden under her skirts, lets out a muffled grunt of pain. Musichetta gasps a half-coherent apology and bites her lip, clearly trying to hold herself still. Joly strokes her hair, whispering soothing nonsense against the top of her head, and wraps his free arm close around her, drawing her tight against him. 

Bossuet pushes Musichetta's thighs further apart, breathing hard as he laps furiously at her. Musichetta arches desperately against Joly's restraining arm, whimpering and panting raggedly. Her toes curl against the floorboards, her legs tremble.

Then she goes limp, sagging against Joly with a sigh. She relaxes her grip on his legs, and brings her hands up to fist in his shirt as she cuddles against him. Her cheeks are hot and flushed, her mouth open slightly, her lips full and very red. Bossuet disentangles himself from her skirt, and he too is pink (from his cheeks through to the top of his head), and breathing hard, his mouth and chin slick and shining wet. 

"Sufficiently eloquent?" he asks.

"Mm- _mmm_." Musichetta uncurls from Joly's embrace enough to meet Bossuet's eyes and nod firmly, before nestling herself back against his chest.

"I think your rhetoric has rendered her speechless," Joly adds. He reaches out an arm to Bossuet, who takes him up on the invitation, shuffling around to sit next to Joly on the floor and accept the arm Joly wraps around him. He leans in to kiss Joly, and his lips are wet and his mouth tastes enticingly of Musichetta. Joly sucks at Bossuet's lip, then flicks his tongue into his mouth, and Bossuet leans into the kiss, seizing a handful of Joly's hair to pull him closer.

Bossuet bites down lightly on Joly's lip, and Joly moans. Then he pulls away, and when Joly tries to lean forward to continue the kiss, uses his grip on Joly's hair to hold his head back, as he takes his time trailing kisses up Joly's jawline, before taking his earlobe in his teeth and nibbling on it. Bossuet knows, Joly thinks, far too well now how to make him melt. It is dangerous knowledge to give him, he will have no scruples about using it against Joly should the opportunity arise. It feels too good, though, for Joly to have any serious complaints at this moment.

After what seems at once a very long time and not nearly long enough, Bossuet draws away. "Perhaps we should move this to the bed?"

"I don't think I want to move," says Musichetta, languidly. "Joly is rather comfortable."

"I'm flattered, but my legs are going to sleep," Joly says. "And I'm sure the bed is at least as comfortable as I am."

Musichetta shakes her head defiantly. "No, you are definitely my favourite pillow, love."

Joly tries to get his legs underneath him, but Musichetta does her laughing best to encumber him, and succeeds in toppling them both back to the ground before he can rise more than a few inches. He looks pleadingly up at Bossuet "A little help, Lesgles?"

"What, you _want_ me to take your mistress off your hands? That's far better than my usual run of luck," Bossuet says cheerfully, sweeping Musichetta up into his arms. Musichetta shrieks in a mixture of surprise and laughter, relinquishing her grip on Joly to clutch frantically at Bossuet's shoulders as he staggers to his feet.

Joly scrambles up himself, following the two of them through into the bedroom, where Bossuet dumps Musichetta unceremoniously on the bed. She yelps and giggles as he drops her. "You are the _least_ gentlemanly - "

"I didn't hear you complaining five minutes ago." Bossuet slides his hand up under her skirt again in reminder and she squeaks, sitting up to put her arms around his neck and kiss him. "See," he remarks, between kisses, "gentlemanly is much less fun, as I think we were in the course of proving?"

Joly drops onto the bed behind Musichetta and begins unfastening her dress. "Clearly the lesson hasn't sunk in yet."

Joly drops kisses on Musichetta's neck as he fumbles with the little hooks that fasten her dress, and without his eyes on the job it takes far longer than it should. Meanwhile, however, Bossuet has slid her skirt up and is caressing her hips and thighs, even as he continues to kiss her, and Musichetta moans happily. They pull apart just long enough for Musichetta to wriggle out of her dress and stays, and that discarded they set to again with a will. As Bossuet returns to kissing Musichetta, Joly caresses her breasts again, only the thin fabric of her chemise now between them and his hands, and the ease with which he can make her sigh and squirm gratifyingly higher as a result.

Musichetta's hands are around Bossuet's face, holding him in place as she kisses him, and they begin to move down, pawing at his cravat.  
"You're wearing too many clothes!" she complains, shoving at his chest. "Take them off!"

Joly can't help laughing at the blend of authority and petulance in her voice, and she rounds on him as well. "You too, Monsieur. You're both altogether overdressed." Although her cheeks are flushed and her hair in disarray, and she is dressed in nothing but a crumpled chemise shoved up around her hips, she manages a credible air of authority as she crosses her arms and glares at the two of them.

Joly, well-practiced in Musichetta's whims, to which it is always best to be obedient unless one has a truly pressing reason not to, begins immediately to undress, and is stripped to the waist by the time Musichetta loses patience with the slower Bossuet.

"Oh, do it for him," she tells Joly, waving a hand imperiously in Bossuet's general direction. Joly is perfectly willing to obey, though Bossuet is more reluctant, protesting as Joly drags him to his feet that he is not a child and can undress himself, _thank you very much_. He stops complaining, though, when Joly, having disposed of Bossuet's shirt, runs his hands over his friend's naked chest, then bends down far enough to set his mouth to it, nipping Bossuet's nipple lightly between his teeth. From the bed, Musichetta makes appreciative noises as Bossuet's yelp of surprise dissolves into a sigh of pleasure.

Joly sets his hands on Bossuet's hips, and flicks his tongue hard against Bossuet's nipple, rolling his eyes upwards to catch a glimpse of the other man's face - mouth open, eyes widened, cheeks pink. Bossuet's hand comes up to Joly's head, petting distractedly at his hair. Joly releases Bossuet's nipple and lowers himself to his knees, trailing a line of kisses down Bossuet's stomach.

Kneeling on the floor, he nuzzles against Bossuet's thigh through the fabric of his trousers as he reaches to unbutton them. Musichetta, meanwhile, has slipped off the bed, and come to stand behind Bossuet, wrapping her arms around him and taking over Joly's caressing of his chest. "See," she says, smugly, "shirtlessness is really a great improvement for all concerned."

Bossuet hums agreement, turning his head to kiss her. "I bow before your superior wisdom, my -"  
He stops talking with a gasp as Joly moves to mouthing at his erection through the fabric. Joly pauses and looks up. "In matters of fashion," he says, ignoring Bossuet's plaintive moan and the hand in his hair that tries to steer him back as he withdraws his mouth, "or its removal, I think we can safely say Musichetta's judgement far outdoes either of ours."  
Bossuet makes no response, though whether this is because he has no rejoinder to make or because he is thoroughly distracted by the hand which Joly has brought into play between his legs, is not altogether clear. Musichetta, on the other hand, leaves off kissing the side of Bossuet's neck for long enough to flash Joly a satisfied smile. "It's good to see you showing the proper respect for my talents, darling."

"I would hardly do otherwise," returns Joly, "as your talents are many and highly evident, and your wrath should I forget that not a thing to be trifled with."

"She has you well-trained," Bossuet offers, patting Joly on the head like a dog. Joly, deciding he may as well play the role in which he has been cast, nips Bossuet warningly on the thigh with his teeth.

Bossuet yelps reproachfully. Musichetta giggles and he pouts. 

"Oh, take that look off your face," Joly says, returning to his more pleasant attentions. "You deserved it."

Bossuet continues to pout until the combined efforts of Joly stroking him through his trousers, and Musichetta kissing his neck and fingering his nipples bring him past the point he can maintain his composure enough to keep it up.

Joly slides Bossuet's trousers down, and when Bossuet's cock springs free, licks it in a way that makes Bossuet whine and rock his hips, his fingers on Joly's head digging into his scalp. Joly brushes his lips teasingly against the tip, then leans his cheek against Bossuet's leg while he wraps a hand around his cock, stroking it slowly.  
Bossuet moans and shudders. Musichetta, pressed up against his back, sounds almost as content. Joly smiles, pressing a kiss to the inside of Bossuet's thigh, and says absently to her, "Happy up there, or would you like a turn?"

"Oh, I'm quite happy," she says, "but I wouldn't mind taking you up on that either, if you wouldn't mind."

"Be my guest, love," Joly murmurs, and Musichetta releases Bossuet from her embrace, and walks around in front of him, looking both men up and down appraisingly. Joly looks up at her, and she reaches a hand down to stroke his cheek. He turns his face towards her hand and kisses it, and when she brushes a finger over his lips, takes the tip of it into his mouth and sucks on it. Musichetta smiles down at him as she takes her hand away to lay it against Bossuet's chest. Joly takes the cue to release the other man's cock, and Musichetta, a wicked grin on her face, shoves Bossuet back towards the bed. 

His trousers still around his ankles, he stumbles backwards out of them and sits down hard on the edge of the bed. Musichetta promptly pounces, straddling his legs as she pushes him down against the mattress.

Joly, still sitting on the floor, watches them with a smile. Bossuet tries to sit up; Musichetta pushes him back down. He reaches out to touch her; she swats his hand away. Her mischievous grin is still firmly in place, and she seems intent on teasing him as much as possible. She leans over him, her long hair brushing his chest, and Bossuet, with a needy moan, strains up towards her against the restraining hand she leans on his shoulder. She dodges his mouth, but he takes advantage of her distraction to get a hand up to touch her breast. Musichetta schools her face into a look of firm disapproval. "If you can't behave yourself, I'll have to have Joly hold you down," she tells him, and the nod she directs at Joly tells her she'd like him to do exactly that. He gets to his feet and makes his way over to join them as she continues, "It seems I must repay your earlier lesson in indecorum with one in discipline?"

Bossuet's answer seems enthusiastic, if less than coherent. Joly, climbing up on the bed to kneel by his head, takes hold of his wrists and pins them against the mattress, then leans down to press an upside-down kiss against Bossuet's lips.  
"Thank you, dear," Musichetta says, resting a hand on Joly's shoulder as she leans over to kiss him. Joly would like to bring his own hand up - run his fingers through her hair, lay his hand on his cheek as he kisses her - but he keeps his grip on Bossuet's wrists, and concentrates on kissing her with his mouth alone, deep and slow, and they both sigh as she pulls away.

Musichetta sits up astride Bossuet's hips, and pulls off her chemise, tossing it to one side and stretching theatrically as both men watch. Then, coming up on her knees, she leans slowly forward, brushing her naked breasts tantalizingly along the length of Bossuet's body, kissing him and pulling away, leaving him straining against Joly's grip as he tries to follow her. She reaches behind her, taking his prick in her hand and stroking it until Bossuet arches his back desperately, bucking his hips frantically and twisting in Joly's hold. She toys with his balls and he cries out and pants for breath as she rolls them slowly in her hand. Her other hand is forward on his chest, half to touch him and half to anchor her as he tosses under her.

When she has him utterly undone under her, a sweating, panting mess, she slowly begins to touch herself, making both of them watch as she strokes herself, then brushes her slick, wet fingers across Bossuet's chest, where they leave shining trails. Bossuet moans, and it is all Joly can do to hold him still as he flails. Joly himself is flushed and breathing fast, watching her, beautiful and naked and altogether in control.

Musichetta's eyes slide shut and she bites her lip as she lowers herself slowly onto Bossuet's erect cock. Bossuet pants and whines as she fucks him, his back arching, his head thrown back, his mouth open and his eyes wide, his arms twitching in Joly's grasp. "God, Musichetta," he half-sobs, rocking his hips up into her.

Musichetta's head is thrown back, her hair tumbling in a dark waterfall down her back, her breasts bouncing as she rides Bossuet. She is the most beautiful thing Joly thinks he has ever seen.

"God," Bossuet mumbles again, "Musichetta, I'm going to..."

Musichetta rolls off him, and wraps her hand around his prick instead, moving it up and down once, twice, and then Bossuet comes with a sob, spurting white across his stomach. He goes limp against the mattress, shuddering gently. Musichetta, lying flopped on the bed beside him, breathing hard, flings an arm across his chest and nuzzles against him. Joly releases his hold on Bossuet's wrists and sits back on his heels, smiling down at the two of them Bossuet wraps a newly-freed arm around Musichetta. Eventually Bossuet's post-orgasmal haze begins to disappate, and, giving Musichetta an affectionate squeeze, he disentangles himself from her and mutters something about cleaning himself up.

Musichetta whimpers plaintively as he pulls away from her, and when Joly lies down beside her and puts his arms around her, she snuggles against him. She is warm and sweaty and flushed, and still breathing hard, and as she leans against him her hand slips between her legs, Bossuet clearly having finished before her. Joly bats her hand away and replaces it with his own.  
"Let me take care of that for you?" he murmurs, kissing her hair, and she nods happily.

Musichetta is hot and wet under Joly's hand, and she breathes out a sigh as he touches her, his fingers finding her clitoris and working gentle little circles there. His other arm is around her shoulders, and her hand comes up to clutch at his as he continues. She gasps and squirms, little gasps escaping her as shudders run through her body, clearly already hovering on the edge of orgasm. It doesn't take Joly long to bring her there altogether, and she cries out, shudders, then finally stills. He lets his hand rest there for a moment, before reluctantly pulling it away, brushing over the soft curve of her hip and thigh. She rolls over, snuggling against Joly's chest with a sleepy, satisfied sigh. He wipes his hand on the trousers he is still wearing - and has no inclination to get up and remove - and wraps his arms around her. 

Bossuet tosses the balled-up shirt he has been using to wipe himself clean into a corner, and climbs back onto the bed as well. He wraps himself around Musichetta's back, tossing an arm carelessly across both her and Joly. Joly smiles at him over the top of Musichetta's head, and Bossuet leans past her to kiss him, Musichetta's hair tickling against both their faces. Joly gropes behind him for the blanket, and between him and Bossuet they manage to get it across the three of them, without even disturbing Musichetta, who is already asleep.

The blanket is not large; it was meant for one person, two at the most, but the three of them sleep cuddled close enough that it does quite well enough for all of them.


End file.
